


stay with me all night(mare) long

by songofthe52hertzwhale



Category: Dalton Academy Series
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2020-05-02 11:05:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19197505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/songofthe52hertzwhale/pseuds/songofthe52hertzwhale
Summary: Logan still has nightmares.So does Julian.





	stay with me all night(mare) long

 

_He can hear Julian’s screams, his best friends voice crying out for him. He runs, but the voice doesn’t get closer._

 

_“Logan!” Julian sobs, “Logan please, please help me.”_

 

_“Julian! Julian, where are you?!”_

 

_“I’m here! Logan, please…”_

 

_He throws open a door. Flames. Again. The next one is the same, the next after that. The hallway fills with smoke, thick white clouds that fill his throat. Julian screams again, more distant this time. His cries are getting further away, and Logan’s legs are slowing. It feels like he’s running through jelly, like his bones have gone limp inside of his body._

 

_“Jules…”_

 

He wakes in a cold sweat, his sheets a tangle around his legs. He’s gasping for breath, panting and trembling as the ghost of the nightmare fades away. It’s always different, but always the same — a thousand different settings, a hundred scenarios. But every time, Julian’s screaming for him. Every time, Logan fails to save him.

 

They’d tapered off a little, when Julian had come limping back to Dalton, a suitcase full of medication and therapy books in his hands. He’d hoped they’d disappear entirely, now that he knows Julian is safe. 

 

But they still come.

 

Less frequently than before, but just as terrifying, just as _real_.

 

Sometimes, they’re bad enough he has to run into Julian’s room, to sit at his bedside and watch Julian’s face, stare at the twitching behind his eyelids and the soft rise and fall of his chest. Julian wakes, sometimes, blinks at Logan in confusion until he shifts over in bed, making room for another.

 

He’s almost at that point tonight. He sits up in bed, leans his elbows against his knees and struggles to still his shaking.

 

He almost doesn’t hear the creak of a door across the hall. It’s the footsteps that capture his attention — an uneven tread, the steadiness of a solid right foot and the stuttered scrape of a weakened left.

 

It’s a little odd, he thinks, that he so easily recognizes the rhythm of Julian’s limp. He’s gotten better, since he’d come back. But the falter in his usual swagger is jarring. Logan can hear it, as Julian travels the hall. He’s not moving closer, not coming to Logan or Derek’s room. Instead, the steps head downstairs, hesitating a bit at the top, then descending with purpose.

 

Julian’s had a nightmare, too.

 

A bad one, apparently. 

 

Usually, Julian will press his face into the blankets, will murmur to himself and focus on his breath until he can sleep again. After the worst ones, he’ll slip into Derek or Logan’s room, make an excuse as he buries himself under the covers.

 

Tonight’s must not be one of the worst. But it’s still bad, if Julian’s leaving his room.

 

Logan grabs a blanket off his bed as he heads out. One of the bigger ones, the soft chenille Michelle had sent last Christmas. 

 

He makes enough sound heading downstairs that he won’t startle Julian. He clears his throat intentionally, leans against the doorway of the common room and waits for Julian to speak first.

 

“I’m okay,” Julian says, the blue light of the television casting shadows on his features as he flips through channels, “You can go back to bed, really.”

 

“I had one, too.”

 

Julian glances up.

 

“I don’t think I can go back to sleep,” Logan continues, “I was going to make some coffee, if you want?”

 

Julian nods, “Could you grab the Oreos, too?”

 

Logan tosses the blanket Julian’s way, turns through another door into the kitchen. He uses the Keurig for times’ sake, ignoring Derek’s voice echoing in his ear — _it brews shit coffee, Lo, you_ know _pour-over is the only way to go_ — and grabbing the half-finished Oreos from the pantry. He dumps a fair amount of creamer in Julian’s coffee, adds a little in his own, and heads back into the common room.

 

Julian’s settled on _The Breakfast Club_ , apparently, is curled up under Logan’s blanket, his eyes half-focused on the screen. He shifts as Logan takes a seat, tosses a corner of the blanket across Logan’s lap and takes the offered coffee mug.

 

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

 

Julian scoffs, “You know I don’t.”

 

“You know I’ll keep offering.”

 

Julian says nothing, but he takes the cookie Logan offers. He cradles his coffee mug under his chin, lets the steam warm up his skin.

 

“Do you want to hear what mine are about?”

 

“No.”

 

Logan falls silent, sipping at his own coffee. After a beat, Julian speaks again, his eyes still facing straight at the television.

 

“Are they bad?”

 

“It’s always us getting separated, in the fire,” Logan says, “And no matter how fast I run, I can’t save you.”

 

Julian’s eyes flicker his way, just for a moment.

 

“I made it out,” he says, quietly, “I didn’t need anyone to save me.”

 

“I still wish I could have.”

 

Julian doesn’t respond. But he does lean closer, his shoulder brushing up against Logan’s arm. Logan takes that for the permission that it is, slips his legs beneath Julian’s until they’re both comfortably snug beneath the blanket. He drops the cookie package in Julian’s lap, rests the hand not holding his coffee against Julian’s shoulder. 

 

He hadn’t meant to take up the habit of touching Julian’s scar. It had started as more of an idle thing, a subconscious desire to soothe his pain. 

 

It’s what he does now — sips at his coffee, half-watches the movie, lightly brushes his fingers across the pale silvery line on Julian’s neck. Julian shivers at first, but after a few minutes his head tilts onto Logan’s shoulder, where it remains for the rest of the movie.

 

Logan almost thinks he’s fallen asleep. 

 

It’s not until the final scene that Julian shifts again, his voice soft.

 

“You don’t make it out, in mine,” he says.

 

Logan presses his fingers against Julian’s skin, a silent response. He doesn’t want to interrupt, doesn’t want to stop Julian now that he’s finally opening up.

 

“They’re always the same,” Julian continues, “I make it out. And I just feel…so _relieved_ , you know? Except then I turn around, and you’re not there. And I keep asking, and I keep screaming, but you didn’t make it out.”

 

His voice breaks a bit on the last part, and Logan sets down his coffee so that he can take Julian’s hand.

 

“I did make it out, though,” he says, squeezing, “We both did. We’re _okay_.”

 

“I know that. It just feels so goddamn real, every time. And every time, I have to remind myself that you’re _alive_.”

 

“I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere, Jules. I promise.”

 

Julian inhales, a shaky breath that rattles in his chest.

 

“I just want them to _stop_ ,” he says weakly, “I’m so fucking _tired_.”

 

He sounds so broken, and there’s a sharp aching in Logan’s chest.

 

“…come here,” he says, tugging at Julian’s arm. He takes the mug from Julian’s hand, sets it on the floor beside his own. The cookies join the mugs, and he manages to pull Julian half-atop him as he reclines on the sofa. Julian frowns up at him, confusion written in his eyes.

 

“This always helps, right?” He asks, “I know it helps me, when you or Derek are there. So maybe you can sleep like this.”

 

“I had _coffee_ ,” Julian retorts, even as he rests his head against Logan’s chest, “I’m not gonna be able to sleep.”

 

“Well the tv’s still on. You can watch. You can sleep. Whichever you want.”

 

He knows Julian won’t be awake much longer. He’s noticed the dark circles under his eyes for days now, can hear the exhaustion in Julian’s voice. Besides, he’s learned over the past few years exactly how to lull Julian to sleep. He hums softly, an absent melody, scratches lightly at the base of Julian’s skull with one hand.

 

He can hear the shift in his breathing, when Julian finally drifts off. His head feels heavier against Logan’s chest, his hand wrapped loosely around Logan’s upper arm. It’s comforting, having the presence of a warm body pressed firmly against him. Logan hadn’t thought he’d been able to sleep again, after that nightmare. But with Julian on top of him, with the steady sounds of his breathing, Logan feels his eyelids grow heavier.

 

There’s no nightmares, this time.


End file.
